


At Sixes and Sevens

by Zephyrfox



Category: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, Don’t copy to another site, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Making Up, Misunderstandings, Pining, Self-Destructive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21710911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox
Summary: Q had a problem with numbers. Specifically, 006 and 007. He’d also prefer it if his grandmother kept her nose out of his (non-existent) love life.Or: What happens when you take a 6, a 7, a Q, and a wily grandmother, and mix...
Relationships: James Bond/Alec Trevelyan, James Bond/Q, James Bond/Q/Alec Trevelyan, Q/Alec Trevelyan
Comments: 94
Kudos: 448





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idiom at sixes and sevens means in a state of complete disarray and confusion, in a complete mess. At sixes and sevens may also mean a state of disagreement between two or more people.

Q sat at the table, peering into the depths of his teacup, and wondered if there was an answer for him there. He sloshed the cup, sending the dregs swirling lazily. He huffed at himself. He knew he’d find no special insight from the tea leaves, but he had a problem with a number. Well, no. That wasn’t quite right. He had a problem with two numbers in particular, and no idea what he was going to do about it.

“You look all at sixes and sevens.”

Shock caused him to sit up abruptly, almost overturning his cup of tea. “Nan?” he sputtered. How did she know? “What did you say?”

His grandmother smiled at him from the other side of the table, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s a turn of phrase, dear. You looked perplexed by something. Now, normally I wouldn’t interfere, but we are supposed to be having tea. Not solving the world’s problems.”

“Oh. Right.” He’d let his mind drift to his current problem rather than focus on his visit to his grandmother and his childhood home. Somewhat relieved he wouldn’t have to report his grandmother for being a security violation, Q relaxed a bit. Which, of course, was a mistake. His grandmother only _looked_ like a sweet, white-haired old lady.

She took a sandwich from the central platter and contemplated it for a moment before taking a bite. 

Q, sensing the danger to come, cast about for something — _anything_ — to say, to derail the questioning he knew would come next.

Nan chewed, swallowed. Then her bright gray eyes swept up and pierced him. “So. What’s got you so flustered, Sheridan?”

He squirmed a bit. “Erm…” He could feel the blush taking control of his face. “Erm…”

“I see.” She studied him, appraising. “Is it a pretty girl?”

“Nan!” Q protested, already mortified.

She regarded him steadily. “Do I need to ask again?”

Oh, gods. Once something had piqued her curiosity, his grandmother wouldn’t stop. “You are an evil, evil woman.”

“Of course, dear,” she said calmly. “You’ve known that since you were five.”

That had been when his parents dropped him off to stay with her while they went to concentrate on research and development at Baskerville and she had refused to let him be homeschooled. Nan had sent him off to school every day despite his protests. Surrendering to the inevitable, Q muttered, “Not a girl.”

His grandmother made an interested noise at the back of her throat. “Oho. A pretty _boy,_ then?”

Q couldn’t help snorting at that notion. “They’re not boys.”

“‘They?’” Nan’s eyebrows went up with surprise. _“Two?_ My, my. Well done, you. _And_ older?” A cat-that-got-the-cream smile graced his grandmother’s lips, and Q squirmed again, wishing desperately that she wouldn’t say anything else. His hopes were dashed, because of course she did. “Older men can be quite the catch. They’re _experienced.”_ She winked.

He almost died, right there, from humiliation. “Nan, please,” he whimpered. How did he get sucked into this hell?

She remorselessly continued her questioning. “What are their names?”

“Bond and Trevelyan.” There was no point in not spilling everything at this point. Maybe he should recommend the MI6 interrogators take lessons.

“Oh, yes?” Something flickered in her eyes, and she took another sip of her tea. “Those are good, strong names.”

He frowned at her suspiciously. He didn’t trust how suddenly tame she sounded. Instinct honed by his years of living with her and by dealing with Double O children prodded him, but he pushed the feeling away. While his nan could make his own life a living hell, she couldn’t do anything to people she didn’t know. 

Right…?

* * *

She turned to watch her favourite grandson leave. Oh, all right, he was her _only_ grandson. Not the _point._ The point was.... She picked up her phone, the one her family thought she only used for games, and hit speed dial. She listened to the ringing on the other end… Shouldn’t be long… The _point_ was, she’d do damn near anything to make sure her grandson was happy.

The line was picked up on the third ring.

“Olivia? Sophia.” That was pure courtesy. Each of them knew damn well there was only one person who would be on the other end of that particular number. “We need to talk about two of your boys.”

* * *

Q settled into his desk at MI6, his thoughts drifting back to the day before, and his talk with his grandmother. He shuddered. He’d be scarred by it for the rest of his life. 

He reached for his mouse and noticed a new knick knack on his desk. A small Delft windmill. Lovely. He sighed, wondering which of the Double O’s had left it. Several had gone through Europe lately, on their way to and from assignments. There seemed to be a competition among all the Double O’s to bring him back the best tea, treats, and trinkets. He still wasn’t sure why — to curry favour for better weaponry, perhaps? Or maybe they just liked him.

The friendly rivalry among the other Double O’s paled in comparison to the rivalry between 006 and 007. Friendly certainly wasn’t the word for it. They took their competition to the next level, with ever more expensive teas and treats. Q didn’t understand it. The two had been friends by all accounts, but now they were coldly antagonistic to each other, and he had no idea why. He was afraid that one of these days something would send the cold flaring into heat and burn them both.

He was at his wit’s end with them. Honestly, of all the Double O’s, they were the two he was most interested in. So much so, that he’d never be able to choose between them. He’d been intrigued by James when they worked together during the Skyfall incident, but at the time James hadn’t seemed to want more than banter. Then Q had met Alec, and he’d been been impressed by what he’d seen of the agent’s casual competence in the field. But Alec had seemed distracted when he returned, and Q hadn’t had a chance to see if there was any interest there. 

And later… Who had been the first to begin the gifting? He was beginning to suspect it was either James or Alec, and the other Double O’s had just got in on the act for the fun. He wished he could tell the two that neither needed to woo him with gifts. He sighed. If only one of the two had shown interest in him, he’d gladly have dated that one, no matter which of the two it was. But since they were in such cutthroat competition with each other, treating him more as a prize to be won, he refused the increasingly elaborate advances from each of them.

That was damn annoying, because his love life had been crap recently, and no one at Six was about to show more than professional interest in him when there were Double O’s circling. Damn possessive, territorial assholes. He ignored the hot flares of jealousy he’d felt when either of his two agents had to romance a mark in the field. He was just concerned for their well-being, that was all. Marks could be dangerous.

A calendar reminder popped up on his computer, noting the agents due to return to MI6 that day — and hopefully returning their equipment. He groaned as he read the list of names. James _and_ Alec were both due back that morning. At the same time.

* * *

_“And_ he leaves his clothes on the floor without picking them up!” James proclaimed triumphantly, looking at Q as if to gauge how well his words were being received.

Q just stared back at him, mouth open, completely unable to believe what was going on. Alec had been in his office, turning in gear and innuendo in equal amounts, when James had waltzed in, intent on the same thing. Q could swear there had been a moment — the barest instant — when the two had checked each other over, as if looking for injuries, before they had gone for each other’s throats, arguing over who had the right to turn his gear over to Q rather than one of his assistants. From there, the verbal battle had turned personal, and then to… bedroom habits?

“Your clothes were on the floor right next to mine,” Alec snarled back, turning to Q. “It wasn’t just me! It was him, too.”

“At least I picked them up the next morning. Yours would still be there if I hadn’t thrown them in the laundry with mine!”

“I kicked them into a pile! I was going to do laundry, but _someone_ distracted me.”

James scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

Alec scowled. _“He_ leaves the cap off the toothpaste, Q. He knows it gets all dry and useless.”

James glared daggers at Alec. “Well, _somebody_ was too busy trying to shove his tongue down my throat after I brushed my teeth for me to put the cap back on!”

“Because you had the worst morning breath ever!” Alec turned to Q again, to bring him into the argument. “Seriously. His morning breath. It’s all the ‘gourmet’ food he eats.”

“I happen to like good food,” James said, sounding petulant now. “He’s hell on clothes, too. He ripped all the buttons off my shirt.”

“You were just as interested in getting naked as I was!” 

“It was my favorite shirt, and you ruined it!”

Alec scoffed at him. “I sewed the buttons back on, it was fine. Besides, you broke the zipper on my jeans that time you wanted to give me a blow job.”

“You used dental floss as thread! Mint flavour! I can’t wear that shirt anymore. At least I bought you a new pair of jeans.”

“Not the same,” Alec muttered sullenly. “Tell him, Q. New jeans aren’t the same as old, comfy ones.”

“No, because they’re better,” James shot back. “Q, you really don’t want him. He disappears on assignment for months, and doesn’t bother clearing out the fridge before he goes. Last time, I found the milk was so spoiled it was practically a new life form.”

“It was a last minute assignment! At least I let you know I was going! _He_ leaves a sink full of dirty dishes and dies for months, without a fucking word.”

“Moneypenny shot me off a damn bridge!”

Alec’s eyes glittered with anger as he locked eyes with James. “Notice how he doesn’t say anything about not letting me know he wasn’t dead.” 

Q couldn’t tell what happened, but the next thing he knew, Alec was pushing past James and heading out of the office, leaving James and Q to stare after him.

James must have noticed Q staring because he grumbled, “It’s not my fault Eve is such a lousy shot.” Then he spun on his heel and stalked out of the office like an offended cat. Q was positive he wasn’t going after Alec. Just… his office only had the one door.

He shook his head, unable to believe what had just happened. Not only were those two knuckleheads fighting over _him,_ they used to sleep together — and from the sound of it, their breakup was because of miscommunication and hurt feelings. A decent relationship counselor would help with that.

At least now he had an idea of what their problem was, and a possible solution to his own. A threesome. Polyamorous relationships could be difficult to maintain, but with these two it would be so worth it. Now, just how to convince his two bone-headed suitors that it would work?

Maybe he should go talk to his grandmother again. Nan usually had good advice when it came to relationships.

He only hoped he wouldn’t regret it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q's grandmother has a plan and a partner in crime — M. It's time for the next step on the path to get Alec, James, and Q together.

“Nan?”

Sophia’s eyes widened as she recognized the voice on the phone. ”Sheridan? Is something wrong?” She looked over at Olivia, standing at the counter with the biscuits, and waved to get her attention. When she looked over, Sophia pointed at the phone, miming for her to listen in.

Olivia looked puzzled, but came over to the table and put her ear on the other side of the phone, just as Sheridan began his story. “It’s those two I told you about. Bond and Trevelyan. They—“

Sophia made encouraging noises as the whole tale spilled out of her grandson. She kept a firm rein on her sense of humour. It wouldn’t do to laugh at Sheridan’s romantic woes. 

He finished with a pathetic sigh. “I just don’t know what to do, Nan.”

“I’ve found that communication is the key to any relationship, Sheridan.” Just as well she wasn’t actually looking at Olivia at the moment. She got a sharp poke in the side for her trouble.

“You haven’t spoken to Grandad in _ fifteen years,  _ Nan,” Sheridan said, a note of accusation in his voice.

“See? I know what I’m talking about.”

Olivia snorted inelegantly at that, and callously abandoned her to go back to the counter and the plate of biscuits.

“Na-aaan,” Sheridan whined.

“Don’t worry, dear. It will all turn out all right.” Sophia locked eyes with Olivia and said brightly, “I have a plan.”

Olivia winced.

* * *

Her two best agents strode into her office, each so tightly wound she almost thought they’d snap. M wanted to roll her eyes.  _ Honestly,  _ the pair of them. Obviously she’d let this situation go on too long. She hadn’t wanted to interfere — after all, Bond and Trevelyan were grown men. They should have been able to pull their heads out of their own arses by themselves. They stopped in front of her desk, assuming stiff poses of almost-attention. She nodded to them. “Gentlemen. Thank you for coming.” Their only response was to stiffen even more, completely ignoring each other’s existence. She almost sighed.  _ Men.  _

Well, best get to it. “Your assignment is to accompany one of our executives. It’s in-country, so it shouldn’t be too difficult for you. Just stay out of MI5’s way.” She could see their uncertainty and curiosity. They wanted to look at each other —  _ did I really hear that?  _ Or possibly, _ is the old bat crazy?  _ She humphed to herself.

Bond unbent enough to ask, “Is MI5 likely to be a problem, ma’am?”

She shrugged carelessly. She’d only thrown that in to see their reaction. “Standard warning for Double O’s operating on home soil. The executive in question has refused all opportunities for a vacation since he started here. Medical have informed me that he’s a candidate for burnout.” She hid a smile.  _ That  _ hooked them. They thought they knew precisely who she was talking about. Bond and Trevelyan eyed each other suspiciously.

“Bodyguarding for an exec on vacation? You hardly need two of us for that,” Trevelyan scoffed.

“It’s the Quartermaster.” She watched them carefully, interested to see their reaction to that revelation. They both seemed to perk up at her confirmation, but then glared at each other when they realized they’d have competition for the Quartermaster’s attention. Sophia had better be right about this. “He’s to think there’s a conference going on at the resort. You’re to convince him to stay there when he realizes the truth, and makes sure he has… fun.” She said the last word with a little distaste. “Outdoors stuff, medical says. Riding, swimming, that sort of thing.” 

The two glared at each other sullenly. She waited, but there was no other response. Well. If that was the way they wanted it… She motioned towards the envelope on her desk. “One of you can give this to Q when he’s realized there’s no conference.”

There was almost a battle over which of them got the envelope, but Bond was triumphant. He tucked the envelope into an inner pocket of his suit coat. Trevelyan scowled at him.

M glared at them both. “If there are no other questions, gentlemen? Dismissed.” They each deflated, flushing in slight embarrassment, but they turned to leave with no more fuss. 

She sighed as her most troublesome — and, secretly, favourite — Double O’s left her office, disapproval of each other apparent in the stiffness of their shoulders. She shook her head and picked up her phone to make a call. “They’re on their way,” she reported when Sophia picked up the line.

“Good. This mission had better work.”

That rankled. “It was  _ your  _ idea, Sophia!”

“But they’re  _ your  _ boys, Olivia. If they screw this up…”

“They won’t,” M said, with more confidence than she actually felt. Now that she’d seen first hand the change in the way the two treated each other… 

Sophia made a non-committal noise in the back of her throat and hung up.

M listened to the dial tone for a moment. “Oh, for God’s sake,” she swore, and slammed the phone down.

* * *

“—no, I’m going to drive.” James’ voice echoed stridently through the parking garage.

Q rolled his eyes. He’d obviously walked into the middle of an argument. James and Alec stood, squared off against each other, next to the open boot of the car they’d be taking to the conference in Upper Tadfield. His appearance at the edge of the field of battle created a momentary lull in combat when James and Alec noticed him watching.

Alec looked at him, then back at James with a slight smirk. “Fine,  _ you  _ drive.” He waited a beat, until James smiled in victory. _ “I’ll  _ sit in back with Q.”

James’ face twisted from triumph to anger. “No!  _ I  _ will sit in the back with Q.”

Q pushed between them as their argument started over again, and put his suitcase in the boot. He shifted the two nearly identical roller bags to the side to make room for his own bag, then slammed the boot shut. Turning his attention back to the still quarreling twosome, he plucked the keys out of James’ hand and waited. No reaction; the two kept bickering.  _ All right then.  _ Q went around to the drivers side and got in, started it up, and rolled down the window. He actually had to whistle sharply to get their attention. He suppressed a grin at the astonished faces staring back at him.  _ “Both  _ of you will sit in the back.”

Chagrined silence accompanied James and Alec as they let their argument drop and got in the car. Q looked in the rearview mirror at the stubborn fools as they buckled in. Each one was as far away from the other as the small car allowed. He rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long trip.

* * *

Q took the turn James indicated. “Are you sure this is the correct turn?” The gate off the main road was open, but it was much smaller than the main gate to Upper Tadfield Resort that he’d bypassed at James’ insistence. It looked more like a gate to a private home. For that matter, why would a conference venue have a separate entrance?

“Yes,” James growled from the back seat. 

Fair enough, Q supposed. James had been the one to ask for directions when they stopped in Causton. He ought to trust that James knew what he was talking about.

It was certainly pretty enough to be part of the resort. Trees in full leaf lined the gently curving lane. Still, it wasn’t what he’d pictured for a conference he’d never heard of before. Why had M insisted that it was vital for him to attend?

“If you’d let _ me  _ drive,” Alec muttered, the rest of his sentence trailing off inaudibly. Perhaps he’d realized that there was no way to end that without possibly insulting Q.

He resisted the urge to look at them in the rear-view mirror. The two of them had been sulking since they left MI6. The only respite had been the stop in Causton. He snorted under his breath and drove on. 

The end of the lane widened into a parking area in front of an old manor house. Stanthorpe Hall, presumably. “It doesn’t look much like a conference venue to me,” Q said skeptically as he parked the car and got out. He popped open the boot and grabbed his suitcase. It was filled with everything he’d possibly need for a week-long conference. James and Alec waited while he got out of the way, then got into a shoving match as they retrieved their own bags. Q  _ tched  _ in disapproval and went to stand in front of the car, looking up at the manor house. His two miscreants came to stand on either side of him.

“Something wrong, Q?” James asked, his voice low.

Q frowned. “Are you  _ sure  _ this is where the conference is being held? It just… doesn’t look right. Where are the people?”

“Probably all late,” Alec said with forced cheer, hoisting his bag up onto his shoulder. “Shall we go in?”

Q nodded, reluctantly, and they headed for the door. Inside was a blandly elegant entry leading to a wide hallway with a reception desk to one side and elegant stairs on the other. At least that looked right, Q thought grudgingly. But the rest… There was no board announcing conference events, no other guests, no receptionist. He tried to keep his simmering temper in check. There was obviously no conference taking place there. What was going on? Had he driven tamely to his own kidnapping? Was M colluding with the kidnapper, or had she been tricked, too? 

At least, if he _ had  _ been kidnapped, the kidnapper had seriously miscalculated. Q had a pair of lethal Double O’s on his side. 

“Welcome, gentlemen.”

A woman’s voice pulled his attention to the stairs. Where had she come from? At least with her carefully styled short brunette hair and smartly casual skirt and top, she certainly looked like she could play the part of conference staff. 

* * *

Delphine Howard stood at the top of the stairs and observed her guests. Two taller men, both well-built with broad shoulders, and one slightly shorter man, with wild brunet curls and glasses. The two taller men flanked the shorter man protectively, their attention flickering around the room. Guarding him, she assumed. Looking for potential threats. They spotted her as she descended the stairs, their deadly eyes locking on her.

At the bottom of the stairs, she announced, “Welcome to Stanthorpe Hall, gentleman.” There, she had the third man’s attention as well. She smiled, making sure to appear welcoming and non-hostile, as she surveyed the three men. Yes, there it was — the outburst she had been told to expect. 

“I was told there was a conference I was to attend here,” the Quartermaster said icily. “There is, quite obviously, no conference. What’s going on?” 

Delphine noted that Bond and Trevelyan were watching him with a hint of amusement. Well. That wouldn’t be the case much longer. “That’s easily explained. I believe you have envelopes for your friends, here? They have an envelope for you, too.” She waited, growing just a tad irritated when the three of them just stood there. With an internal sigh at male obstinance, she gestured at them. “Well? What are you waiting for? Exchange envelopes. Go on.”

Sheepishly, the three then exchanged their envelopes with minimal fuss. Thank God. She expected another outburst when they read the contents of those envelopes… The realization seemed to hit all three of them at once, and she raised a hand to forestall their objections.

“I am Doctor Delphine Howard, and as you just read, you are all here under orders from M to relax — and work on your relationship. Now. First things first. Electronics in the bin on the table, please.” Delphine hid her amusement at the shock the three men in front of her displayed.

Q gaped at her. “But… I need my phone. My department—”

“Will still be there when you’re done. If there’s an emergency, there are procedures in place to get you where you need to be.” She paused to let him absorb her words.

“Why? How? Who?” Q sputtered, while Bond and Trevelyan just stared at her, assessing.

“Orders from M,” she reminded him serenely, gesturing at their envelopes. She decided to throw them a bone — or perhaps put the cat amongst the pigeons. “Although I understand that it’s a favour for a friend. I do hope you decide to cooperate, gentlemen. I believe there’s an…  _ alternative  _ plan if you don’t.”

The two Double O’s exchanged a wordless glance and tossed their phones into the container. Q, who she had honestly expected would protest further, only grimaced, but ultimately followed suit.

_ Interesting,  _ Delphine thought. She might have an ally in him after all. The two agents would certainly hate the next part, so she decided on a change in routine. Perhaps they’d be more cooperative. “Now, ordinarily I would have you two place all your weapons in the bin, as well.” She noted the way the two tensed, their hands twitching towards their holsters.  _ Hmmm….  _ Bit of a hair-trigger there that she’d need to look out for during their sessions. “However, I doubt that would completely defang either of you, and depriving you of your security blankets might just be counter-productive.”

Two backs stiffened, and Delphine had a momentary image of offended cats, hissing malevolently at her. The moment passed quickly, until they looked more like they were damn near pouting. 

“Contrary to your expectations,” she continued, looking at Bond and Trevelyan, “You’re not to be concerned with bodyguarding the Quartermaster while you’re here. The grounds are walled separately from the main resort and patrolled at irregular intervals. There are also cameras keeping an eye on things, with guards in the control room at all times.”

The pair exchanged a meaningful glance, and Delphine hid a smile. M was right. Keep them focused on the need to protect Q until they learned they could work together again.

“Now, then.” She waved her hand, indicating the rest of the house. “You’re free to choose any bedroom you wish. You three are our only guests at the moment. There’s a lounge for relaxing, a kitchen, and a dining room. Housekeeping comes in once a day, just to freshen things up, so you’ll be expected to prepare your own meals and clean up after them. There’s plenty of food to see you through the next week. Your schedules for the day will be posted in the dining room at breakfast each morning.”

“Schedules?” Trevelyan asked, watching her with suspicion.

“Yes. You’ll have individual and group counseling.”

“Are you going to make us do team-building exercises?” Bond‘s voice dripped with sarcasm.

She regarded him with mild surprise. “Do you need team-building exercises?”

_ “No.” _

“Then you won’t have to do any.” She smiled serenely at them. “As I said earlier, gentlemen. You’re here to work on your relationship. Whatever it may be.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James, Alec, and Q have their first evening at the retreat. Dinner, an evening stroll... and angst.

Q’s emotions were rioting all over the place. Outrage, mainly. Curiosity. Stung that he had to lose his beloved electronics. And, of course, surprise. He certainly hadn’t expected this when they left MI6 that morning! He was lost in his thoughts when Dr Howard began speaking again.

“Now, for this evening, you’re to relax and reflect. On the relationships between the three of you, and on relationships in general. No need to compare notes, that’s what we’ll go over tomorrow morning. That said, there’s no need for you to hide away in your rooms.” Dr Howard took a step back and gestured towards the stairs.

Q snuck a look at James and Alec. They both looked suspicious. Of Dr Howard, or the whole setup?

Dr Howard continued. “I’ll leave you here, and see you in the morning. Have a good evening, gentlemen.” With that, she left through the manor’s front door.

And that would seem to be that. With a mental shrug, Q shouldered his bag and went up the stairs, aware that James and Alec were following. At the top, he found five doors opening off a wide hallway. He tried the door closest to the landing and found a large linen closet. Behind him, James and Alec immediately started bickering over which rooms to take. Q ignored them and opened the next door.  _ Ah, good.  _ A bedroom. He went in and slammed the door, surprising the other two into silence.

Of course, that silence only lasted a moment before the arguing began again, but this time it was muted by the door. He dropped his bag on the bed and looked around. It was a nice sized room with a view of the grounds — a rolling lawn interrupted by a pond, and framed by trees. He knew the rest of the resort was somewhere out there, but he couldn’t see it.

He put his clothes away, then pulled out a notebook and pen and put them on the desk. It was placed next to the windows, so he opened them before he sat down. The breeze carried the scent of flowers with it as it ruffled his hair. He smiled, reminded of his grandmother. She always had flowers somewhere about, and had loved ruffling his hair when he was younger.

His thoughts turned to the other older woman in his life — M. What had she been thinking? Why had she suddenly decided to step in and intervene in James’ and Alec’s relationship? Why involve  _ him?  _ Had she simply used him as a ruse, to lure James and Alec into counseling? He shook his head. It didn’t make any sense, otherwise. No one knew he was just as interested in James and Alec as they seemed to be in him. 

Well, no one except his grandmother. He sighed. She hadn’t given him any details about her idea to get him together with James and Alec, just told him “not to worry”. But now that M had taken an interest, it wasn’t likely Nan’s plan would work.

Right. He knew what he had to do. Help James and Alec get back together. None of this was about  _ him,  _ after all. It was dangerous for those two to be distracted by relationship issues when they were on a mission.

He thought about what little he knew of couples counseling. Maybe he could spend time with his agents, and ask questions about how their relationship started and what happened to derail it.

Q completely ignored the little voice in his head that suggested that he could use these next few days to get James and Alec to really fall in love with him, rather than see him as a prize to be won in their damn pissing contest.

* * *

Later that evening, boredom and hunger had driven him out of his room and into the kitchen. Q found that it had indeed been well stocked, and included suggestions on a sheet for meals. He didn’t feel like making a meal for one, or even three, should his two agents decide to come out of their rooms, so he pulled out the rolls, sliced meat, and cheese, and made a couple of sandwiches. He was putting on the finishing touches when Alec came into the kitchen.

“Q,” Alec nodded in greeting. He surveyed the supplies on the table with a lifted brow. “Sandwiches for dinner, then?”

“I thought it the easiest.” Q hid his confusion. Alec had seemed almost relieved to see him, although that relief turned so quickly into interest in food that Q thought he must have been mistaken. 

Alec just grunted in acknowledgement, grabbed a plate, and began making a couple of sandwiches for himself.

Should he stay here? Go into the dining room? The lounge? Q wasn’t sure. He wasn’t the host, here. He could even go back up to his room, although that would be the coward’s way out. He looked at his plate. What else did he need? Ah, yes. Something to drink. It was a bit late for tea, even for him, so he decided on a glass of water.

By that time, Alec was done with making his sandwiches and James had appeared, also with that momentary relief that Alec had shown. What did it mean? Q didn’t want to ask. 

Without a word to either of them, James went to the table to make his own sandwiches. Q was interested to see that Alec silently passed James the condiments just as James needed them — without being asked.

Maybe this would all work out after all.

* * *

Deciding to keep things informal, Q took his plate and glass to the lounge and sat on the couch. Maybe they could compare notes. “What did M tell you two?” he asked as James and Alec came in. They each took one of the matching easy chairs, both placed to watch the room’s door and windows. “Conference and guard duty?” 

“No, she said this was a forced vacation for you, since you’d been refusing to take any leave. We were to…” James broke off in sudden realization, his eyes flying to Alec. 

“To make sure that you. Had.  _ Fun,”  _ Alec ground out, looking every bit as put out as James. “Nothing about bodyguarding.”

“She played both of us.”

Q snorted. “She played all three of us. She told me that it was vital for me to attend this conference. I was going to send one of my assistants.”

They were all silent for a few moments. Q desperately wanted to ask why James and Alec, who had been fighting for months, had been willing to work together when they thought they were going to be his bodyguards. Probably better if he didn’t bring it up, though. The lack of arguing between the two was rather nice.

He settled back to enjoy the temporary peace. He had a feeling it wouldn’t last long.

* * *

James waited outside the building, letting his eyes get used to the gloom. Twilight and just before dawn were the most dangerous times of the day. It could be difficult to make things out properly in the uncertain half-light.

Fortunately Q had missed the speaking glances he and Alec had traded, coordinating their patrol. Neither one would be able to rest until they ensured their Quartermaster’s safety, which was something they both were able to agree on.

It had only been six months since the aftermath of Skyfall. Since their fight. He still missed Alec like a missing limb. He knew it had been his own actions — no, his  _ lack  _ of action — that caused the problem. But he couldn’t admit, even to himself, that he had been wrong. At the time… He shook himself. No sense dwelling on the past. Now he needed to work with Alec. He was sure that was the real point of this little exercise. M couldn’t have known about their real relationship. She just disliked it when her agents were at odds with each other. It interfered with efficiency and safety on a mission.

He felt Alec come out of the building to stand near his shoulder. Once, Alec would have come close enough to touch. Not any more. He didn’t sigh, although he wanted to. Now they had to prove they could still work together despite their issues.

Show time.

* * *

Alec walked away from James to do his sweep, trusting his partner to do the same. They would meet again on the other side of the building and go on from there. It felt strange to be working with James again after so many arguments. That last one… He shoved the memory of hurled accusations and bitter condemnation away. He didn’t need to think about it now. He refused to admit that part of the problem — maybe even most of the problem — were his feelings of hurt and betrayal that James hadn’t even tried to contact him while playing dead. He was sure M just wanted them to get to the point they could work together safely. What he wasn’t sure about was why she’d sent them off with Q. How had M known that their Quartermaster was the only reason he and James would even consider working together again? Each of them would do their utmost to ensure Q’s safety. 

He bared his teeth in remembered jealousy. He should have known that James would start courting Q the minute they broke up. For the same reasons he himself had: Q was smart, funny, sarcastic, and just as driven to protect England as they were. 

* * *

Their patrol had gone off without a hitch. The grounds were adequately separated from the rest of the resort, and there were indeed guards patrolling at intervals, keeping an eye on things. The guards hadn’t spotted  _ them,  _ of course, but they were Double O’s for a reason. If they couldn’t evade civilian guards, they should both give up their numbers.

They had worked together just as seamlessly as they once had, and that gave him the courage to speak up as they returned to the manor. He stopped at the door and turned to his companion. “Alec?”

Alec frowned at him, probably wondering why he’d stopped. “It’s late, James.”

That had never mattered to them before. “We need to talk.” 

“That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?” Alec brushed past him to shove the door open and disappeared inside.

James blew out a breath and followed. “Just listen, will you?”

“I  _ did  _ my listening.” Alec swung around, his face hardening. “For months. And I heard  _ nothing.  _ Because there was nothing to hear.” They stared at each other, then Alec scoffed at him and stormed off.

His stomach twisted — that hadn’t gone as he’d hoped. He’d thought… James shook his head and followed slowly up the stairs. 

* * *

James sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. He was tired. He’d been tired for months before Moneypenny had shot him off that bridge, adding pain to his exhaustion. He could have contacted Alec. He almost had. He knew Alec would have understood wanting to just… stop. Hell, Alec might even have come to join him until he was ready to go back. All he had to do was pick up a phone and dial a certain number they both had memorized and leave a message. Easy. Except he hadn’t done it. Every day he’d thought about it, and every night he’d gone to bed with a bottle or a hooker. Or both.

Anything to forget.

Then MI6 had blown up. The threat to England — to Alec — had called him home. Alec hadn’t been there, he’d been on assignment. James had thought that a blessing at the time, but when Alec had returned, he learned just how wrong he’d been about everything. How much he’d screwed up. 

Now, as much as he missed Alec, he couldn’t figure out how to get them back together. He’d well and truly burned that bridge. He’d only truly understood that when he’d seen Alec flirting with Q. 

He flung himself backward onto the bed. Q. Smart, snarky, competent. How could anyone resist? He certainly couldn’t. Since he couldn’t have Alec, he had concentrated his efforts on Q. He knew Q was interested in him — but Q was also interested in Alec.

At least  _ he  _ didn’t have to choose between the two of them. That choice was out of his hands. Q would be the one to choose — between him and Alec.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q makes breakfast, then he, James, and Alec prepare for their first counseling session.

Q stifled a yawn as he entered the kitchen. He half expected to see James or Alec, but the room was empty. No sign either of his Double O’s had been there before him. 

He’d spent a restless night in an unfamiliar bed. He had left the drapes open, so when the first rays of the morning sun peaked in, he had been glad to get up, figuring that was a semi-reasonable hour.

As it was, he’d taken his time getting showered and dressed. Part of that had been his indecision of what to wear. He’d packed for a conference, not for, well, whatever this was. Counseling, sure, but it wasn’t for _him._ The focus would be on James and Alec. After last evening, he was hopeful that this counseling would work to get them back together, stubborn though they were. Regardless, he had only packed business casual outfits, and those he’d chosen deliberately, knowing that James would be there, snarking about his clothing choices. 

He had put on his loudest shirt in anticipation. Then he’d been surprised to stumble over a valise when he left the room. Matching valises had been outside the rooms James and Alec had chosen. Q’s valise turned out to be full of comfortable clothing, so he’d gone back into his room. Jeans, runners, shorts, t-shirts, swimsuit. All looked as though they would fit him to perfection. He assumed that the other two would find clothes just as well fitted — MI6’s tailors knew their sizes well. With a new wardrobe to choose from, he’d decided to put on a comfortable looking pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

Now, he stared at the stove, debating. Should he cook for himself, or make enough for James and Alec? He shook his head. No, if they were hungry they could make their own. He was a bit surprised he’d ended up in the kitchen before them. Surely they were both already awake… He froze as an unpleasant thought occurred to him. _What if they had both left rather than face dealing with their issues?_

Frowning, a thin thread of worry winding through him, Q set about making breakfast. Tea first, of course.

* * *

Q was just pouring a second batch of pancakes onto the griddle when Alec wandered in. He noted that Alec seemed tired — and a trifle wet around the edges, as if he hadn’t bothered to do more than towel dry after a shower. He didn’t mention any of that, and merely offered, “Pancakes?”

Alec looked momentarily interested, then shook his head, heading towards the other counter. “Coffee.”

Shrugging, Q turned his attention back to the griddle. The edges of the pancakes had bubbles and were turning faintly dry, so he flipped them. Each pancake started rising as they began cooking on their opposite side. Wouldn’t be long now…

It was almost relaxing, he mused. Domestic. Making breakfast while Alec made coffee behind him. He plated the finished pancakes, adding them to the short stack already there. He eyed the remaining batter. Looked like enough batter for another few pancakes. Should he make them or save the batter for later?

Toast popping out of a toaster distracted him. Alec, a mug of coffee in one hand, grabbed one of the slices and stuck it into his mouth before grabbing the second slice. He looked a little embarrassed when he realized Q was watching him and juggled the slice in his mouth into his hand with the other slice. He smiled innocently. “Didn’t want to dirty another plate just to hold a spare piece of toast.”

Q fought the laugh that wanted to bubble up. How could anyone as deadly as Alec be so ridiculously childlike at times? The urge to laugh disappeared abruptly as Alec stiffened, his handsome face turning to stone as he stared at the doorway to the kitchen. 

Before Q could ask what was wrong, James entered the room, face just as unreadable as Alec’s. Q looked him over critically. It didn’t look as though James had slept well, either. He noted the red rimming ice blue eyes with suspicion. Had James smuggled in alcohol?

Alec took a deliberate step away from the coffee machine and toaster, then went to stand at the counter height island, his back to James.

James, in turn, completely ignored him and made a beeline to the coffeemaker as soon as Alec was out of the way.

Wondering what the hell happened last night — obviously the two had had another fight after he’d gone to bed — Q put the rest of the batter up. With a mental shrug, he took his plate and mug of tea over to the island, choosing a stool opposite Alec. There was another stool between them, should James choose to come over, too.

This tension between James and Alec was sure to make their first session — a group one — awkward. 

* * *

After breakfast, they gathered in one of the sitting rooms. It was a deceptively cozy room that set Q on edge just being there. James and Alec flanked him in easy chairs, pulled into a semi-circle around a small coffee table. Dr Howard sat directly across from him. What would she ask of them? 

Dr Howard smiled and put her clipboard to the side. “We’ll keep things simple at first. Sheridan —“

Q cringed. No one used that name except his grandmother. “I prefer Q.”

Dr Howard made an interested noise, one brow going up as she looked at him, and she made a note on her clipboard. “All right. _Q._ As I was saying, first —“

He snuck a glance at James and Alec. They didn’t seem to show any interest that she’d spilled the beans about his name. But… for the rest of the session they made an art form of their intransigence. Maybe they didn’t like that she’d done it? Or perhaps they just resented that she was interfering in their relationship. They sniped at each other as much as they sniped at her. The only one free from their vitriol was Q himself.

* * *

Q felt a distinct flash of relief when Dr Howard released them after their first session. They were given half an hour, with the instruction not to go far. She planned to talk to them again when she finished analyzing their answers and interactions, to let them know her plan for their counseling.

Alec sat on the floor, legs outstretched, with his back leaning against the couch. He produced a squishy stress ball from somewhere and absently tossed it into the air. 

James had gone to the piano that sat in the corner, and idly poked at random keys. Somehow, he produced an almost soothing melody.

Q was tempted by a tech magazine on the window seat, but wasn’t sure. Should he try to talk to James and Alec, or ignore them? Feeling somewhat at a loss, he stood there, shifting from one foot to the other. 

“You all right, Q?” James’ voice seemed loud over the soft notes from the piano.

Q jumped a bit, staring at him wide-eyed. “I, erm, yes?”

“She shouldn’t have used your name,” Alec chimed in. 

When Q looked, he saw Alec, sitting up, watching him, holding the ball in one hand. “She didn’t know—” he started.

“She should have. M sent us to her,” James interrupted. “Besides, it’s yours to give us. If you want.”

Both men watched him intently. There really was no reason for all the secrecy. Besides… Q took a deep breath. “I’d like you to know it.” The tension in the room took on an anticipatory air. “Sheridan Sinclair. I really do prefer Q, though.” 

James and Alec looked at each other and nodded. “Q it is then,” James said, launching into a new tune.

Q went closer. “I didn’t know you could play the piano.”

“I learned for a mission. Undercover at a resort — not this one, of course,” James said, flashing a deprecating smile at him. “Played the piano in the lounge, keeping watch while my partner shadowed our target.”

The song shifted again — and this time, to Q’s shock, Alec sang along. Softly at first, as if he was unsure whether was welcome to accompany the song, then stronger. His eyes were half closed now, as if he was concentrating on the song rather than the ball he tossed the ball into the air.

“He was there, you know. At the resort.”

Q turned back to James, whose fingers never ceased their playing. He wanted to ask what happened during that mission, but something held him quiet, and he just sat in a nearby chair, listening to his two Double O’s.

Were they remembering working together, or did this underscore they thought this was just a mission to get through? Perhaps this was a signal that they were trying to get along? Q hoped so. He had been wondering what the threatened alternative method to solve their relationship problems could be. The only thing his imagination could come up with involved them sitting in his nan’s kitchen, unlikely as that was. And his nan would be there, staring at them, in that disapproving way of hers, until they got their collective acts together. He shook off that thought and concentrated on the music. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lazy afternoon at the retreat. Q spends some time with Alec and with James, learning more about each of them.

Q leaned against the wall, watching Alec groom the horse. After their break, Dr Howard had collected James for an individual session, and ‘suggested’ that he and Alec ‘go for a ride and chat’ until it was time for Alec’s session. So they had come down to the stable for their mandated time together. Truthfully, Q didn’t mind the forced togetherness. He only hoped this retreat worked to bring James and Alec back together.

When Q sheepishly admitted he didn’t know how to ride, Alec had simply shrugged and said that they could just spend time together. Alec certainly seemed to know his way around stables. He had known right where to find someone working there, and had spoken quietly to the young woman. Then Alec had gone into one of the stalls and brought out a horse while the young woman put some equipment out for him on one of the shelves. 

The horse had a brown coat, shading to darker brown or black on his legs. Alec tied the horse to the walls and picked up a pair of brushes. Some more conversation between him and the young woman, apparently to reassure her that he really did know what he was doing, because she left after that. 

Q spent a few moments idly admiring the way Alec’s t-shirt fit — and the way it hugged his muscles as he brushed the horse. Then Q remembered that they were there to ‘chat’. What could he say? Maybe ask a question that might give him some insight to help? “How did you and James get together, anyway?” Alec’s shoulders stiffened, and Q worried for a moment that he’d overstepped.

Then Alec sighed and cast a sober glance at him before refocusing on the horse. “It was a long time ago, when we were both young and stupid. We’d both gotten into the SBS — Special Boat Service. Him from the Navy, and me from the Royal Marines.”

“Did you like it?” Q asked quietly. “The SBS, I mean.”

Alec shrugged. “It wasn’t bad. More of the same for a Royal Marine.” He flashed a wink at Q, then turned serious again. “We both dated — women, of course. Neither of us realized the other was bi. At least, I don’t think James knew about me, then. I certainly hadn’t thought he was anything other than straight.”

Q waited while Alec brushed the horse some more, seemingly lost in thought. 

When Alec began speaking again, Q had to strain to hear. “Sometimes we’d find a woman who didn’t mind us sharing, and we’d have a threesome. Then one time… I don’t remember how, but… it was just the two of us.”

“And that’s when you knew?”

Alec huffed a laugh and ducked under the horse’s head to begin brushing its other side. “Not at all. We were still only casual lovers. But after that, we didn’t worry so much about finding a woman to share when we went to bed together.”

“When did that change?”

“Not for years.” Alec paused, brushing the horse some more. “It was after we became Double O’s. Of course, nobody at MI6 minded us being… flexible, but we were too used to being casual, I suppose. Then… Well. I was on an extended undercover mission, and James got sent to take down Le Chiffre.”

“Oh.” Q winced, fighting the instinctive urge to shield his groin. He’d heard some of that story. It was decidedly unpleasant. He realized that Alec’s green eyes were locked onto his, and had seen his reaction.

“Yes, ‘oh’,” Alec said grimly. “I didn’t hear about it until much later. Not until after James had quit, Vesper drowned, and James came back. That’s when our relationship changed.”

Q didn’t move a muscle. He had no idea what to say next.

“We realized that all either of us had was each other. We still had occasional threesomes, but it was different. We were together.” Alec ducked back around the horse and grabbed another type of brush and began brushing again. Q wondered idly if multiple brushings was a normal part of grooming a horse, or if Alec was stretching things out for their conversation. “I was undercover again when the mess with Silva started. Just finishing up a mission, actually. Came home to find James was dead, and some trainee agent had killed him.”

Even though Alec’s voice had grown sharp with remembered anger, his movements remained steady and calm around the horse. “M sent me out on mission again. Thought I’d murder Moneypenny if I stayed around.”

“Was she right? Would you have killed Moneypenny?”

Alec froze, one hand on the horse’s back, the other on its flank, his shoulders stiff. After what seemed an eternity, his shoulders relaxed, and he resumed brushing the horse. “Possibly.” 

Q nodded, despite the fact that Alec wasn’t looking at him. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“Really?” Alec sounded skeptical.

“She’d killed your best friend, your lover. It’s only natural that you’d want revenge.”

Alec only grunted.

Silence stretched while Q thought of some way to change the subject. 

“Q? Would you like to give it a go?”

“Hmmm?” Q shook himself out of his thoughts to realize Alec was watching him with a fond smile that said the question had been asked more than once. His mind went blank. A bit embarrassed that he’d been caught lost in thought, and — he wasn’t exactly afraid, but… that was a big horse. Then he kicked himself. Alec was reaching out to him. “Oh, what the hell. Why not?”

In short order, he found himself with a brush in one hand, a currycomb in the other, and he faced a horsey wall of brown. He gulped. The horse seemed bigger than it had before…

“Just like this. Slow and easy, no rush.” Alec stood close behind him, a solidly reassuring presence, and gently took control of his hand to sweep the brush across the horse’s coat in short arcs. “It can be almost meditative.”

Q enjoyed the closeness of brushing the horse with Alec. It could have been suggestive, but… it felt more companionable. Still, when Alec stepped back, having judged him ready to groom on his own, Q immediately missed the feel of Alec’s broad chest against his back.

“Still doing all right?” Alec’s voice came from right behind him.

The knowledge that Alec was right there, ready to take over in case something went wrong — or if Q did anything wrong — was reassuring. “So far so good, I think.”

Alec chuckled. “You’re doing fine. Let me tell you about the time that a horse saved my arse while I was on a mission…” 

* * *

The time they spent in the stable went by all too quickly. The young woman had come back to let them know that Dr Howard was waiting for Alec after he got cleaned up, and Q was sent to the pool. He was to go swimming with James.

He hurried through his own shower and put on the pair of swim trunks he found at the bottom of the valise. They were a little more snug than he was really comfortable with, but overall he was pleased with the way they looked. He smirked. He might not be trying to snare James or Alec, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t look good while he helped repair their relationship.

James was swimming laps when Q arrived at the pool, so he got in and lounged by the steps at the shallow end of the pool. He swam well enough, but he certainly enjoyed the sight of his agent doing laps. The way James’ water-slick muscles moved and bunched as he swam from one end of the pool to the other… Those skimpy trunks… And of course they were the same shade of arctic blue as James’ eyes. It really wasn’t fair. Why did he have to try to get James and Alec back together and not try to get them into his bed? 

Not that he was only interested in sex. Although, that would definitely be a perk in any relationship with either of his Double O’s. No, what Q really wanted was a relationship. One like his parents had. Even though he didn’t see them all that often, when he did, he could almost feel the connection between them. 

James swam up, gliding through the shallow water towards the steps. In one smooth motion, he rolled over and sat leaning on his elbows against one of the steps, his legs stretched out in front of him.

Remembering the lake — loch — at Skyfall, Q asked, “Did you learn to swim as a boy?”

James slanted an amused look at him. “I fell in the loch a fair few times as a lad while fishing. Kincade had to fish me out again.” A faraway look came into his eyes. “No, I didn’t really learn to swim until after I joined the SBS.”

Q frowned at that. “Shouldn’t you have already been a good swimmer to qualify for SBS?”

James smirked at him. “Had some lead time before testing started. I… persuaded one of the other candidates to teach me how to swim.” 

From the cat-that-got-the-cream smirk, and the way that James…  _ shifted,  _ Q understood that ‘persuasion’ had included sex. He flushed at the thought.

“Yes, Q,” James said, gently teasing. “Sex was involved. Quite good sex, actually.”

Q wasn’t sure what to say. James’ teacher obviously hadn’t been Alec. “Whoever it was did a good job.” Then, growing flustered at James’ ever-widening grin, he said, “Teaching you, I mean.”

James, damn him, purred, “Yes he did.”

Q burst out laughing. “You are impossible.”

James grinned at him unrepentantly. 

They lazed together in the water for a few more minutes before James asked, “How about you? Did you learn to swim as a boy?”

“I did, actually.” Q smiled, remembering. “My nan travels a lot, so during school holidays she would take me along and make sure I learned as much as possible. Swimming, scuba diving, snorkeling, skiing, skating…” he shrugged. “Any time there was an opportunity to learn a new skill, she arranged for lessons.”

“Your nan? Not your parents?” 

“Mmhmmm,” Q hummed. “Mum and Dad were focused on their research. They’d drop me off with Nan for a few days, then they’d end up coming back months later. Eventually I just stayed with Nan. It was easier for all of us.”

“Did that… bother you?” James asked, sounding almost hesitant.

“No, not really. It was normal. I got to travel with Nan, and at home my aunts were always there.” Q could see the question in James’ face. “Violet and her wife, Suzanne. Aunt Vi taught me computers and how to code, and Aunt Zan taught me about writing.”

“She’s a writer?” James asked, sounding intrigued. “Have I read anything she’s written?”

“Probably not,” Q laughed.“She’s mostly written academic articles on Beowulf.”

James’ eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned. “Then I have read her work. Her analysis of the symbolism in the relationship between Grendel and his mother was intriguing.”

Q felt his jaw drop open in disbelief. “You’re interested in Anglo-Saxon epics?”

James shrugged, obviously enjoying his shock. “It’s a hobby. I’m certainly not a scholar like your aunt. I’d love to have a conversation with her sometime.”

“She’s taken,” Q reminded him, still a bit off balance by the revelation James enjoyed ancient epics.

James smirked back at him. “I promise I’ll behave myself around your aunt, Q.”

* * *

Hunger eventually drove them out of the pool. They went back to the manor to find Alec waiting for them just outside the lounge. One light brown brow rose at the sight of them in their skimpy trunks. “Enjoy your swim?”

Q glanced at James, who looked away rather than answer. “Yes, it was quite nice.”

“Hmmm.” Alec tilted his head in the direction of the stairs. “Go get changed. I’ll make lunch.”

“Thanks,” James muttered, with a swift glance at Alec before turning to walk away.

“Yes, thank you.” Q looked from one to the other, wondering what was going on between them now.

Alec gave Q a half-shrug of apology. “Oh, and James?” He waited until James turned back to him. “After lunch, we’re up next with Dr Howard.”

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q goes exploring after lunch, and returns to find Alec is missing and James is overdoing it in the gym. He informs Dr Howard that he is _not pleased_ with the situation. His problems double when he realizes James is missing too.

Lunch had been odd, with an air of tension between James and Alec that Q hadn’t understood. He’d thought — hoped — things were improving between the two of them.  Their first counseling session had understandably been strained. It might have gone well, even with James and Alec resisting, but then Dr Howard had revealed his first name. He had told James and Alec his full name later, but at the time, the damage was done. James and Alec had been at their intransigent best.

Q had noticed Dr Howard smiling mysteriously when she thought they weren’t looking. Perhaps everything was moving along as she expected? He hoped so. 

Left to his own devices, Q explored the manor. He found a few unused rooms on the ground floor, and peeked inside. One had a large table surrounded by chairs, while another two had smaller tables and chairs grouped together. Meeting rooms for larger groups to have break out sessions, no doubt. There was the gym, the lounge, and a music room, complete with a couple of guitars and a drum kit. Q went into a room next to the kitchen, expecting to find a laundry, but instead discovered a pottery studio, complete with a wheel and a kiln in the corner. 

A distant memory stirred as he stared at the pottery wheel. Hadn’t there been a movie about that? A couple, making a pot together, only one of them had been a ghost. A mental picture of sitting at the wheel, Alec behind him the way they had stood while grooming the horse, flared bright in his imagination. Then Alec morphed into James. He hummed, enjoying the imaginary feel, then sighed. He shook his head, dismissing the thought. They weren’t at the retreat for him. He had to remember that, and concentrate on rebuilding the relationship between James and Alec.

* * *

After thoroughly exploring the pottery studio — he found paint, glaze, and bits of cut glass, to make mosaics — Q wandered back toward the main part of the manor. It was almost time for his individual session with Dr Howard. 

He frowned at the sound of weights crashing together coming from the tiny gym.  _ What the hell?  _ He went to the door and looked in. He stopped, stunned, at what he saw. 

James, sheened in sweat, methodically lifting weights. From his grunts of effort, he’d been at it for a while.

_ What the hell happened?  _ Q shook his head, debating whether to go in and find out. He’d only been gone for an hour! He stepped cautiously inside the small room. “James?”

“Get.  _ Out!”  _ James snarled without looking at him.

He got. He did  _ not  _ flee… but it was a damn near thing. 

* * *

Something had obviously happened at the joint counseling session, and now James was trying to kill himself by working out. Q bit his lip. What was  _ Alec  _ doing? He skipped his scheduled session with Dr Howard and went looking for his other agent. That was more important.

Half an hour later, Q was ready to admit defeat. He had no idea where Alec was, which was a problem. He had even spoken to the security guards, but they hadn’t a clue either. Which, he supposed, was all to the good. If Alec couldn’t get around security at the retreat, he should hang up his number. Although... it was incredibly inconvenient at the moment.

A quick look into the gym showed James running grimly on the treadmill. 

Right. That’s it. Fury overtook his worry, and Q stalked off to find Dr Howard.

* * *

He barged into her office without bothering to knock. “What the hell happened between James and Alec?” 

She looked up slowly from her paperwork as he fumed. He was about to snarl a threat at her when she spoke. “I can’t tell you— Aht!” She held up a hand to cut off his automatic protest. “Doctor-Patient confidentiality.”

“Doctor-Patient confidentiality be damned,” Q spat back. “Right now James is trying to kill himself by working out in the gym and Alec is nowhere to be found.” He put his hands on her desk and leaned forward. “What.  _ Happened.” _

Dr Howard sat up, obviously taken aback. It didn’t change her stance on confidentiality, though. “All I can tell you is that they got out a lot of poison between them. Negative emotions. They’ll recover. It will just take—“

_ “Time,”  _ Q interrupted, abruptly hating her and this whole process. 

“Yes.”

Q studied her, wondering idly if Dr Howard knew just how close she was to death right at that moment.

A buzzing rattle interrupted his murderous thoughts. He and Dr Howard turned to look at the bin holding the electronics. He dove for the container, grabbing it before she could, and opened it. One of the phones buzzed angrily, over and over. His. One glance confirmed that Alec’s phone was missing. His heart in his throat, Q picked up his phone. It ceased its angry buzzing and lit up. He opened his messages, noting easily two dozen from Q-Branch. He swore under his breath, but put that aside and checked the most recent. It was from Alec. Only two words: I’m fine. 

Q felt as though he’d been doused with a bucket of cold water. Those words were decidedly  _ not  _ reassuring coming from a Double O. Especially not from one of  _ his.  _

A distant  _ boom  _ rattled the windows. Q looked apprehensively in that direction.

“Alec must have found the ordnance range.”

“Ordnance range,” Q repeated flatly. It wasn’t a question, it was a demand for more information.

“We’re a retreat used by top secret agencies, Q. We have ways for people that need to… blow off steam.”

“And you think that’s healthy behavior?” Q asked, incredulous.

“Just let them be,” Dr Howard advised, her voice turning gentle and understanding. “They both have learned enough to work this out.”

Q stared at her in frank disbelief.

She winced. “Neither one is… well,  _ adept,  _ at their own emotions let alone anyone else’s, but I’ve given them a foundation. It’s up to them to build on it.”

“You’d better be right,” Q spat at her, rather enjoying the sudden shock on her face. He turned on his heel and stalked out.

The gym was eerily quiet as he went past. Heart once more in his throat, he went in. 

James wasn’t there.

Q slumped against the wall in relief, but worry still nagged at him. He’d misplaced both Alec  _ and  _ James. 

Now what?

* * *

James had been drinking the night before, Q remembered. That meant access to alcohol. And if he was no longer in the gym, then he’d be drinking. 

That certainty drove Q upstairs, to check James’ room. Once more he disdained a polite knock. Instead, he tried the knob, and when it turned easily, he just kept going. The heavy smell of alcohol filled the room. Q wrinkled his nose against the reek as he looked for his agent. 

“What do you want?” James’ rough voice came from the corner of the room, from the shadows under the window. Sitting on the floor, Q noted, with half a bottle of scotch set on the floor in front of him. 

Taking the lack of a snarled  _ get the fuck out  _ as an invitation to stay, Q sat next to him. Incredibly, James still didn’t throw him out. The only reaction was a resentful, “Did  _ she  _ send you?”

Figuring he meant Dr Howard, Q said, “No. If anything, she’ll be lucky if I don’t destroy her credit rating.”

James turned to face him, curiosity adding a bit of spark to his eyes. “Why?”

Q shrugged. “Because you’re upset. And Alec is missing.” He felt James’ tension ratchet up at the mention of Alec. To his surprise, though, James didn’t say anything. So Q asked a question of his own. “What happened?”

James scoffed. “Another fight, what did you think?” Still, he made no move to throw Q out.

Q decided to take that as an unspoken invitation to keep interfering. He waited to see if James would say anything else.

“We held it together during the ‘session’” — and here Q could hear the scare quotes loud and clear — “But afterward… that’s when it all came out.”

Q stayed silent, not sure of what he could say.

“My fault. And a little his fault, too.”

“What happened?” Q asked again, striving to keep his voice low and matter of fact. If James felt Q was blaming him for whatever had happened, he might change his mind about talking.

In response, James picked up the bottle and took a swig. 

Q nearly fell over in shock at the uncharacteristic behavior. As far as he knew, James  _ always  _ used a glass. Even when trying to get so drunk he couldn’t see straight.

“It started in London,” James finally said, voice low enough that Q had to strain to hear. “Before everything went to shit on that damned train. Before Moneypenny took that damned shot. I’d gotten a concussion from my last mission, and was stuck hanging around MI6. Alec… We argued. A lot. I don’t remember what about. Stupid things. Alec volunteered to go on a mission, because I was ‘a grouch’ and not fit company. Maybe that’s true. We didn’t actually fight, but...” James shrugged and took another swig from the bottle. 

“I was mostly recovered when M sent me out with a trainee to back up Ronson and recover the laptop. Should have been an easy mission. Ronson had the damn thing in the safe house, but someone knew he was there. Silva, I guess. Sent that assassin in first. Hell of a first mission for Eve. We were expecting something like a milk run.”

Q nodded. He hadn’t known the full details of the beginning of the Silva incident.

James stared pensively at the bottle of scotch in his hands. “I could hear M and Moneypenny arguing over taking the shot while I fought Patrice on the top of a speeding train.” He gave a bitter laugh. “A fucking speeding train, and M expected a rookie to take the damn shot.”

Q wanted to ask what Moneypenny should have done instead, but held his tongue. He had a feeling he’d learn more if he stayed quiet.

“Y’know what flashes through your mind when you’re falling 100 meters into the water from a speeding train?” 

Icy blue eyes speared suddenly into Q. He silently shook his head.

“Nothing.” James looked away again, focusing on the bottle.  _ “Nothing  _ goes through your mind. There’s pain, and there’s panic, and there’s no room for anything else. And when you fetch up on a riverbank, when you’re lying there half dead and everything hurts… you remember that your lover had to take a mission to get away from you. You think maybe — just maybe — you should stay dead.”

“So you did,” Q said somberly. “But you came back.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think Alec would search for me, so I crawled into a hole and disappeared.” James rotated the bottle in his hands, looking as though he was contemplating another drink. “Hell, maybe I knew he would be searching, and didn’t want him to find me. All I had to do was call him. Let him know. And I didn’t.”

This time the silence stretched for a minute or two until Q broke it. “And that’s why he’s angry?”

“Wouldn’t you be? He searched for me for days before giving up. At first I was too hurt to contact him. Then I just… decided to stay dead.”

“Didn’t you explain when you had the chance?”

“He was hurt and angry.” James shrugged. “I didn’t try hard enough to break through that wall, I guess. And I felt guilty, so I got hurt and angry too. And then I saw him flirting with you and got jealous. Of him, for having you. Of you, for having him. So I flirted with you. If I couldn’t get Alec back, then maybe I could get you.”

“But… Alec never flirted with me until you started,” Q frowned, trying to remember just what had happened when.

“Right. And Alec thought I had been flirting with you, so he did the same.”

An appalling realization began snaking its way into Q’s thoughts.

“We both started flirting with you because we each thought the other wanted you. We’ve both been unfair to you, Q.”

“It was all just a game for you,” Q whispered, staring at James, appalled. He gasped for breath, going cold and then flashing hot as the bottom dropped out of his world. It was though someone had punched him in the gut, driving all the breath from his lungs. Was James saying that neither he nor Alec had really wanted Q? “Pretending to want me,  _ using  _ me, just to, to get _ back  _ at each other? Because your feelings were hurt?”

He hadn’t expected a relationship— He wanted James and Alec back together, damnit, but had he just been a  _ game  _ between the two? He stumbled to his feet. He needed to get out. He couldn’t breathe.

“Fuck. I didn’t mean it like— Q? Q!”

He couldn’t hear James’ voice over the roaring in his ears as he left the room.

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Q left suddenly, hurt by what James said. Now, James needs to track him down and fix their misunderstanding. He runs into Alec first.

Q hadn’t appreciated being used as a chew toy in the tug-of-war between James and Alec, but he'd at least thought that they were both being honest in their attempts to seduce him. To find out that neither had actually meant _any_ of it?

Now he knew why James had tried to half kill himself overdoing it in the gym, why Alec was blowing shit up at the range. He wanted to do the same. Run, until he couldn’t feel anymore, destroy something, anything, to release the anger and pain.

He had to get out of there.

* * *

James swore as Q fled — _fled!_ — from him. He tried to get up, wanting to stop Q before he got too far away, but between his overworked muscles and the alcohol, all he succeeded at was falling over his own damn feet.

 _Damn_ it. Damn his instinct to crawl into a bottle when a relationship went tits up. He’d never found any answers at the bottom of a bottle before. 

He hadn’t meant he and Alec had just been using Q. They had both fallen hard for their Quartermaster. In a perfect world, where James hadn’t just cocked things up with Alec _and_ with Q, he’d have both of them in his bed. Or he’d be in theirs. Whichever.

By the time he managed to get to his feet and to the hallway, Q was long gone. His heart sank. He needed to find Alec. Then they could go and find Q — together.

* * *

James walked through the house, wondering where the hell to start looking. Hadn’t Q said Alec had gone missing? There was no telling where he might have gone. Maybe James’ penance for being a fuck up was to wander around until he could find them both. 

Although… he relaxed as a familiar scent reached him. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to wander long. Alcohol had dulled his senses, but he could still identify the smell of gunpowder and gun oil mixed with blood and sweat… with just the slightest hint of explosives. Alec was ahead of him. Close. Eagerly, James sped up and turned the corner — only to run into a solid wall.

The wall caught him as he stumbled back. “James? Are you all right?”

Their eyes met as he clutched Alec’s arms to regain his balance. He wasn’t sure which of them moved first as they crashed together, with all the inevitability of the tide. James found himself with his back pressed against a door, with Alec’s warmth searing into him from crotch to shoulder. Their hands were on each other, tearing at their clothes, and their lips and teeth trailed heated kisses and bites across every inch of skin they revealed. 

James gasped into Alec’s mouth as a calloused hand closed around his cock and began moving in a rhythm they had used so many times before. Alec moaned back as James’ hand found a cock as familiar as his own. 

The next little while was a confusion of delicious pressure on his cock while he stroked Alec’s, the smell of sex surrounding them. He nuzzled into Alec’s shoulder and sucked, tasting skin and sweat and gunpowder. He moaned at the taste, or maybe it was because of Alec’s hand, moving on his cock. He could feel his orgasm building, singing along his nerve endings and a bright spark of pain, high on his neck, where Alec had just sucked a bruise, pushed him over the edge and everything whited out for a moment.

Then Alec came, too. Bucking into his hand with a grunt. They stood there, coming down from their pleasure, their foreheads touching as they panted in the aftermath of their passion.

James chuckled breathlessly and caught Alec’s lips in a deep kiss. He’d missed Alec. He had missed the way they just fit together. They stayed there for a few moments, enjoying the closeness. Then, slowly, interspersed with more kisses, they set about putting themselves back together.

“How’s your shoulder?” Alec asked roughly, appearing to be more concerned with doing up his trousers than James’ answer. 

“Not too bad,” James answered, wondering why Alec had asked. Then he noticed he was favoring that shoulder as he buttoned his shirt. 

“I, erm… ran into Dr Howard. She told me you’d been overdoing it in the gym.” Alec looked up then, to meet James’ eyes. “Did you threaten her? She seemed quite nervous when I talked to her.”

James smirked. He knew the answer to that one. “That wasn’t me, that was Q.”

“Q?” Alec grinned, obviously delighted. “That’s our Quartermaster. Where is he?”

 _Oh._ “Erm…” James looked away. How could he admit what he’d done? That he’d driven their Quartermaster away?

“James?” Alec said, an _answer me_ tone coloring his voice. “What did you do to Q?”

“I, erm… I tried to explain to him what happened between us, but I didn’t tell it right, and he misunderstood. He thinks we were using him.”

Alec swore, long and colorfully, but at least he seemed to be reluctant to let James go any time soon. Maybe they’d be all right this time.

* * *

Q found himself in a puppy pile. Literally. Five colorful borzoi pups, almost eight-weeks-old, vied excitedly with each other for the opportunity to climb over him.

“Oof!” He shifted away from an inconveniently placed golden paw. “Not there, sweetheart,” he admonished her through barely parted lips. The only response from the gold pup was an over enthusiastic tongue up his nose. There was a reason he had learned to keep his mouth clamped shut around this lot. 

A white and red pup poked her nose in his ear, while a mostly black pup nibbled at his hair on the other side. The last two pups, both white and cream, were tussling with each other across his legs — fortunately closer to his shins than his crotch.

He’d gone for a long walk after his encounter with James, and had found the gatehouse to the retreat. He hadn’t noticed it when they drove in the day before. It was well hidden, since it was set back from the driveway and partially obscured by trees. 

The sound of random excited barking had intrigued him, drawing him to investigate the source. After all, most excited dogs would be barking nonstop. He’d made his way out of the woods to find the gatehouse, which, according to the sign, had been turned into a kennel run by the resort’s owners. Several adult borzoi had been playing in an enclosure outside the gatehouse. A second, smaller, enclosure sat a little distance off from the first. Both could be accessed by a pair of gates, set up airlock style — only one gate could be open at a time. A sensible precaution against escapees.

He had met a young man named Marcus, who had told him about the dogs, and that while borzoi could be loud, they rarely barked a lot. Marcus had let him into the smaller enclosure to play with their current litter of puppies. The pups’ mother, Luna, had seemed eager to be rid of her offspring for a bit and go into the larger enclosure to play with the other dogs. He couldn’t blame her. The pups were definitely old enough to be on their own.

For now, at least, he was glad they were there. Playing with the pups was taking his mind off of James and Alec. He groaned. There he was, thinking of them again. 

The gold pup that had been licking his face whirled and tackled the black pup investigating his ear. The white and red pup nibbling his hair was drawn in, and before long all the pups were wrestling. Q spotted a ball in the corner, and grabbed it without the pups noticing. He gave a low whistle, and one pup after the other stopped and looked at him, watching him with brown eyes full of mischief and the joy of life. He tossed the ball away, and five furry missiles raced after it, pushing each other out of the way in their eagerness to be first to the ball. The biggest pup, one of the white and cream ones, almost got it, but the white and red pup, the smallest, outmaneuvered her and raced away with the prize. 

From there it became a game of keep away, as the pups tried to get the ball away from one another. They practically flowed as they raced over and around the various obstacles in their pen. 

Q sat on one of the hay bales, looking twice as he noticed a couple of carrots sticking out at odd angles. From the tooth marks, they had been placed there deliberately to be puppy-gnawed. The enclosure was full of fun things for pups to encounter, whether designed for investigation, like the carrots, or to climb on, like the hay bales and crates.

He smiled at the puppies’ antics. He might be more of a cat person, but the pups were a lot of fun. Sudden silence had him sitting up, checking his surroundings. Where had they gone? Quiet puppies, like quiet Double O‘s, usually meant mischief.

The answer came a moment later when all five pups jumped on the bale of hay to tackle him to the ground. Q laughed, even while he was careful not to land in a pile of something best not thought of when he was having fun.

But he _was_ laying on something that dug into his shoulder. He grasped the white and cream pup that stood on his chest to hold it still, and rolled to the side. The black pup dove excitedly on whatever it was he’d uncovered. He chuckled when he realized he knew what it was. “Here, puppup, let me have the ball.” The pup just bounced excitedly, bounding away a few steps and then back again, wagging its tail.

“Oh, it’s keep away again, is it?” Q let go of the pup he was holding and caught the other pup gently by its scruff. “Give me the ball. I promise this will be fun.”

Fortunately the pup let go easily, and when Q waved the ball all the pups mobbed him. He tossed the ball, lobbing it high in the air, and the pups eagerly raced off. Q watched them play, a feeling of peace and contentment filling him. He frowned when the pups abruptly stopped playing and raced for the fence.

They swarmed excitedly there, welcoming two newcomers entering through the first gate. Q groaned. James and Alec had found him.

He found himself checking them over for injuries, for all that he was still furious at them. They looked no worse for wear, really. Although… he narrowed his eyes as the breeze carried with it the smell of fresh sex underneath the acrid reek of spent gunpowder and gun oil. As extra proof, Alec had a bruise sucked into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and James had a matching hickey high on his throat. Well. That was that. They were obviously back together. Mission accomplished. So why did he feel like he’d lost?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Alec find their Quartermaster. Now all Alec needs to do is get James to convince Q that they can all have a relationship together.

The late afternoon sun shone down, sending a speckled warmth through the trees. Alec almost hummed as they walked along the path, reveling in the feeling of rightness of having James by his side. All it had taken was a couple of quite frankly _amazing_ orgasms. Now, all was right in his world. Well. Except that Q had disappeared. Which was why he and James were searching the grounds of the retreat. 

“Alec,” James said, quietly getting his attention. 

“Hmm?” Alec looked over to see what James was staring at something in the distance.

James pointed with his chin. “Over there.” 

Knowing it had to be important, Alec dutifully shifted to get a better view of whatever it was. Through the trees he could make out a pen full of puppies playing. And there, in the middle of them, was their Quartermaster. He shared a grin with James. “Now that’s just adorable.”

They made their way down to the pen. Q didn’t seem to notice them until the pups swarmed the fence, tails wagging eagerly, excited to get attention. But instead of getting up, Q stayed where he was, quietly watching as the two of them entered the pen. 

Up close, Alec could see just how adorable Q looked, rumpled from playing with the puppies, with stray bits of hay on his clothes and tangled in his hair. Q was checking them over, too, as if he was scanning them for injuries. 

Alec expected James to say something, but it seemed that his lover was speechless, so it was up to him. “Hello, Q.”

In the space of a breath, Q’s eyes narrowed, then widened in some realization. His face crumped into devastation.

 _Why?_ What was wrong? Panicked, Alec looked at James for an explanation. Then he realized what this must be. His James was a maudlin drunk and hadn’t explained properly to Q that they truly wanted him, they hadn’t been playing. 

As he watched, Q drew himself up with a deep breath. “006, 007.” 

Disturbed by the formality, Alec shoved his elbow into James’s side and nodded his head at Q. James just stared back at him, puzzled. Alec rolled his eyes and gave James a significant look and inclined his head at Q again. _You broke it, you fix it._

“Right,” James muttered, an understandable hint of panic in his eyes. Neither one of them did emotions well. Unless it was a mission. 

Although... if James treated Q like a mission, Alec would kill him. He was pretty sure Q would help hide the body.

Before James could say anything, however, Q beat him to it. “Neither of you actually talked to each other, did you?”

Alec fought the urge to shuffle his feet, and out of the corner of his eye he saw James glance at him with a desperate expression that firmed into stoic martyrdom.

“We, erm…” James began, obviously searching for the right words to appease Q. “We had sex.”

Alec winced. He didn’t think that would do it, but he leaped into the abyss to assist. “Fantastic sex. Really, really great, amazing sex.”

Q stared at them in disbelief. “You two can’t solve all your problems with _sex.”_

“We can damn well try,” James muttered under his breath.

Alec agreed, but elbowed him in the ribs again. James was going to end up with bruises all over his side at this rate. They were meant to be seducing their Quartermaster, it obviously wasn’t going well, and seduction was more in James’ bailiwick.

James shot him a glare, then apparently decided to throw them both on Q’s mercy. “We both like you, Q. We want a relationship with you. Between all three of us.”

For a moment, Q looked hopeful and intrigued, and Alec felt a flare of hope. But then Q’s face fell. “I can’t do the drama you two go through.”

Disappointment seared through Alec. _How could they change Q’s mind?_ Grasping at straws, he said, “You balance us, Q. Ground us.”

“All we can do is try,” James added. “Maybe it won’t work out, but what if it could, and we didn’t give it a chance?”

Indecision filled Q’s eyes. Alec held his breath. What would their Quartermaster decide?

Finally Q nodded. “All right. We can try. But we go slow.”

“Of course, Q,” James agreed immediately. “Absolutely.”

“Slow, that’s good, not a problem.” Alec said, nearly at the same instant.

“Good.” Q looked at them, obviously waiting for something. Or maybe to ask a question?

Alec fought the urge to nudge James again. What did Q want? A kiss, maybe? A pledge of undying love? But no, that wouldn’t fit with going slow. 

Finally Q broke the silence that was beginning to feel uncomfortable. “Did you two sort everything out between you?”

Why would Q ask that? They’d already admitted they’d had sex. That was practically the same thing as talking, right? 

“Erm…”

Alec stared at James. _That_ was all he could come up with? Mr ‘I’m so smooth’ Double O? 

Janes glared back. “Don’t see you doing any better,” he muttered under his breath.

“You didn’t talk at all, did you?” 

Alec cringed at the disappointment in Q’s voice. “Erm…”

“See?” James hissed at him.

Q sighed, shaking his head at them. “You do realize you’re perpetuating an unhealthy relationship cycle.”

James nodded, a bit subdued. “Does that mean you don’t want to get together with us after all?”

Q studied them for long enough that Alec was sure he’d say he never wanted to see either of them again. “Promise me that you’ll both talk to a counselor? And really try?”

James nodded, so with a mental shrug, Alec did too. Perhaps Q was right, and talking to someone would actually help. And it made Q happy, which was the main thing. Alec beamed at James and Q, relieved things had worked out so well. “Come on, I’m hungry. I’ll make dinner.” 

He ignored the sudden look of alarm on both their faces. He was a fine cook. Maybe not gourmet, like James, but he could make good food. Mostly. At least no one had ever gotten food poisoning from eating anything he’d made. That one time in Prague didn’t count. That poisoning had been deliberate. 

* * *

The whole way back to the manor, Q wondered what he’d let himself in for. James and Alec kept darting glances at him, as if they couldn’t believe he was with them. It did wonders for his self-esteem, if he were being honest. 

Once back at the manor, Alec made good on his declaration that he’d cook dinner, and of course James volunteered to help. Not being willing to leave the two alone — unsupervised, in a kitchen! — Q elected to stay and help. Besides, it would be relationship building. The whole idea of having the guests cook for themselves, right?

It was a simple meal, just steak, broiled to perfection, mashed potatoes, and fresh broccoli steamed until it was bright green and just slightly cooked. Alec was doing a good job with it — despite the way he and James would distract each other by kissing. They really were adorable together. It occurred to Q that he’d never seen the two when they were together and free to touch. Because they couldn’t seem to stop touching. Saying they were handsy was an understatement. 

They didn’t leave Q out, either. The first kiss had caught him off guard. An oddly determined looking James had headed toward him on the way to — Q had thought — the counter to peel potatoes. Instead, he’d found himself in a tentative embrace that was James giving him every opportunity to back out. Of course his only thought was _sod that,_ and he’d been the one to reach up for a kiss. It had been a nice kiss, not nearly as heated as the ones that James had been sharing with Alec, but it was suitable for a first kiss between him and James. Q felt warm inside by the time they let go, and then Alec was there with a teasing grin and an unspoken _what about me?_ The kiss Q shared with Alec was every bit as nice as the one with James. After that, he was apparently free game for his Double O’s — not that he minded. Cuddles, half-hugs, pecks on the cheek, and full on deeply passionate kisses. He felt as though he was at the center of a whirlwind… Which pretty much explained the state of the kitchen when they were done cooking. They were just waiting for the steaks to finish under the broiler.

James and Alec were kissing — again — and ignoring the mess around them. They were pressed together so tightly he doubted that there was a molecule of space between them. “How did you two manage to keep your relationship secret at MI6?”

“We didn’t,” James said with a shrug. “But that was work, not a place for PDA.”

Public Display of Affection, Q translated. When he tuned back in to his… boyfriends? Lovers? James and Alec were bickering amiably about the mess and who would clean what. There were potato peels on the counter, and rather more pots in the sink than Q would have thought such a simple meal would need.

The timer rang. Time to take the steaks out. Alec did the honors, two huge oven mitts covering his hands.

“At least there’s no smoke alarms this time,” James said, teasing.

Alec glanced over as he pulled the pan of steak out of the broiler, and said with a sniff, “A good bake is one you can walk away from. A great one is one where you can reuse the oven.”

Q was intrigued. That sounded like just the kind of thing Alec would say to justify a kitchen disaster. “There’s a story behind that, isn’t there?”

James and Alec shared a glance. Obviously the memory wasn’t a bad one — or at least, not too bad — because Alec waved at James to go ahead. 

“It all started,” James began, with an air of telling a long, involved tale, “when we were invited to…”

Q settled back to listen with a smile as James spoke and Alec plated up their dinner. He had no idea what exactly the future would bring, but the start of their relationship seemed to be getting off on the right foot. Hopefully the future would be just as good.

He ignored the little voice warning that he’d need to introduce his boyfriends to his nan. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James, Alec, and Q are back from the retreat, happy with their relationship. Of course, now that they've returned they have to face M.

Q staggered into the brightly lit kitchen and screwed his eyes shut with a groan. Too bright! After the remainder of a _very_ pleasant week at Stanthorpe, they’d gotten back to London the previous afternoon. They’d ended up at James’ flat then, and had had a quite enjoyable late night after settling in. Now, however, he wished he’d gotten to sleep a bit earlier. He wasn’t altogether sure if he’d be able to handle work that day.

“Coffee, Q?” Alec’s voice sounded sympathetic to his plight. 

“Or tea?” James added, sounding as eager to help as Alec.

He pried his eyelids open. The smell of coffee dominated the room, followed by the scents of a decent fry-up which surprisingly did _not_ turn his stomach. Coffee. Gods, yes. Caffeinnnne… His lovers, already dressed for work, stood at the counter, each holding a steaming mug they drank from. Q blinked. James held a mug with a cartoon stag, while Alec’s depicted a cartoon wolf. Mmmkay…. Putting that aside to think of when he was more properly awake, he managed to mutter, “Coffee.”

Alec put his mug down and grabbed another to pour the life-giving liquid into.

“Not tea?” James asked with a teasing smile.

“Tea is the beverage of the Gods, but before—” Q squinted at the clock “—six in the morning, coffee is required.”

“Here you go.” Alec held a mug out to him. 

Q frowned at it. The mug had a ‘Q’ on it, but it was a hideous, cartoony Q. Comic Sans would be better than this Q. It was an abomination of a Q. Abomina-Q. It was — he became aware of the tension in Alec and James that they both tried to hide. James, with his hideous stag mug. Alec, with his ugly wolf mug. They had gotten him this Q mug to match. Warmth filled him, and he smiled as he took the mug and sipped. “Thank you.”

James and Alec relaxed and began discussing their plans for the day. Apparently Moneypenny had already texted, summoning them to M’s office for a briefing as soon as they got in. 

“All of us?” Q looked up from his life-giving coffee, confused. “If she’s got missions for the two of you, why would she want to see me?”

Alec scoffed. “Probably wants to make sure her little scheme worked.”

“As much as I hate to admit she was right, I do believe we’ve amply proved that we can work together,” James said, giving Alec a sly smile.

“Well, yes,” Alec smirked, leaning close to James. “Every day. Multiple times,” he whispered, and captured James’ lips in a kiss.

Q watched them fondly as their kiss grew more heated. He marveled at the fact he didn’t feel jealous or left out. He knew that his lovers would always include him. Perhaps they’d all end up in bed together, for all that James and Alec were obviously ready for work. 

He wouldn’t mind going back to bed with his lovers for a bit longer, even if they just slept. It felt as though they’d been going nonstop in their endeavour to enjoy themselves to the hilt for the remainder of their week at Stanthorpe.

James and Alec pulled apart, and the soft look they gave each other warmed Q’s heart. He smiled to himself as the two went back to their interrupted breakfast.

Q sipped his coffee. The startled expressions on James’ and Alec’s faces had been worth it when he’d ripped up the day’s schedule the morning after they’d gotten together. He still wanted them to have some sort of counseling, but he’d also preferred to spend the rest of their time at Stanthorpe getting to know his lovers better.

His phone buzzed. Q fumbled it out of his robe’s pocket and glanced at the screen. He groaned.

James looked over at him, concerned. “Something the matter, Q?”

“My nan wants to see us tonight.”

Alec threw a confused glance at James, then turned back to Q. “That’s a good thing, surely?”

“You haven’t met my nan.” Q heaved a sigh. There went any desire to go back to bed. “Give me a few minutes to shower and get ready for work. The sooner this day is over, the better.” Maybe they could at least sneak in some kissing and cuddles on their way to work. 

* * *

They took Q’s BMW to MI6. James’ Aston wasn’t exactly roomy enough for three, and while Alec’s Jaguar _was,_ Q had no desire to be relegated to the rear seat. He’d simply gone to his own car and got in — the passenger side. He hadn’t felt like driving, either. He wasn’t sure how they decided, but James ended up driving. Alec, in back, hadn’t bothered with a seat belt, and leaned forward between the two front seats.

Q leaned back in his seat with a smile, letting his lovers’ conversation wash over him. Then something James said caught his attention. He sat up. “What?”

“Your cats, Q,” James said patiently. “We know you have a couple. It’s fine if you want to bring them over when you move in.”

 _Move in?_ When had that been decided? “Am I moving in?”

James glanced over at Alec and got a nod. “Yes, if you want to. Alec will be moving back in this weekend—”

“I don’t have all that much stuff to bring over,” Alec interrupted hastily.

“Yes,” James said, sounding a bit irritated at the interruption. “So there will be plenty of room if you’d like to move in, too.”

“Yeah,” Q said, still not quite able to believe that he had these two all to himself. Well. Barring whatever might happen during missions, of course. He smiled, content, as James pulled into the MI6 parking garage and found a spot. Even the prospect of bearding M in her den didn’t sound so bad with James and Alec at his side. “Yes. I think I’d like that.”

* * *

M surveyed the three men arrayed in front of her. None of the three suspected how much she was able to read from them. Bond radiated aloof disdain while Trevelyan slouched insouciantly. And as for the Quartermaster… He watched her calmly, studying her just as she studied them. Good. She expected that out of someone raised by Sophia. 

She let the silence drag on for a moment longer, then she began. “Your target, gentlemen, is Iago Drax. We suspect him of selling government secrets.” She passed the file to Bond, who took it without looking at it. Trevelyan swiped it instead and opened it, appearing to ignore her as he thumbed through it. “That’s everything we have in hard copy. You’ll find a link to softcopy information in your secure email. You are to study it and prepare a plan to infiltrate. We need evidence. A kill order might be forthcoming — that will depend on your report. I will expect a preliminary briefing in three days. Any questions?”

Q straightened, drawing her attention. “Yes. Why am I here?”

Because I wanted to see the three of you interacting, M did not say. She merely raised a brow. “You’re here, Quartermaster, for your expertise and insight. Should Bond or Trevelyan have questions where your technology might assist them.”

“Hmm.” His implacable hazel eyes never left hers. “You interfered in our relationship.”

“I ensured that you three were operating at peak efficiency.” She swept them with a cold expression and waited for a beat. “If that’s all, then, gentlemen? Dismissed.”

The three looked at each other and then left. She picked up her phone and dialed as soon as the door closed again. When the other end picked up, she said, “You were right, it worked.” Her eyes went to the door and she smiled. “Yes, of course I’m sure. Tonight? And they’ll all be there? I’d love to.” She rang off and started through her paperwork, humming. Bond, Q, Trevelyan, and Sophia all in one place?

She wouldn’t miss that for the world.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James, Alec, and Q reflect on the mission M gave them, discuss their housing arrangements, and go to see Q's nan. They get sidetracked when they meet Q's cats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this would be the last chapter, the epilogue, but the boys are having too much fun. Next chapter will be the epilogue, and James and Alec will meet Q's nan at last!

Alec sat on the couch in Q’s office, his feet up on the coffee table, thumbing through the folder that M had given them. James was over by Q’s standing desk, where the two of them had squared off like gunfighters in a western, discussing where they would be living. Alec didn’t much care which place they decided on. His flat was barely a hole in the wall. Merely a place to sleep and store the explosives he’d never admit to having. But really, one never knew when a bit of a flashbang might come in handy, and everyone would thank him for his foresight one day.

M had handed them an interesting, although pathetically easy, assignment, with a ludicrously generous deadline. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Should they be insulted? But James thought it likely that she was giving them the chance to prove… something. How well they worked together, perhaps? Normally they were given an assignment with most of the particulars worked out — oh. Hang on. Was that it? Was she looking at pulling them from the field? He snorted to himself. _Ridiculous._ He and James were far too valuable to put behind a desk at this stage of their careers.

“So we’re agreed then?”

Alec looked up as Q’s question penetrated his musing. James and Q were standing closer together now, heads angled towards each other with their shoulders relaxed. He felt some of his own tension ease at the sight. He hadn’t liked the thought of his two lovers at odds over something as unimportant as where to live. “What have we decided?”

James flashed him a fond, knowing smile. “During the week, when we’re off mission, my flat in London. Weekends, Q’s place in Hampstead.”

“Close enough to MI6 for a noon shag whenever we’re in the mood, good idea.” Alec grinned at his lovers, remembering the last time he and James had snuck out for an afternoon. As for Q’s place… Could be nice, but — “Suburbia sounds lovely, as long as I’m not the one mowing the grass.”

James smirked at him, probably remembering that same afternoon. It really had been quite memorable.

“No skiving off work on a whim,” Q said, his attempt at sounding severe ruined by the laughter apparent in his voice. “And no, you don’t have to worry about mowing.”

“Excellent. Now come here and take a look at this.” He put the file down on the coffee table and spread out several pages and a map. “Drax has a boat docked here, at the local marina. I have an idea…”

* * *

Alec leaned back in his seat, idly watching the scenery flash past through the BMW’s windows while Q drove them, expertly navigating through the suburban streets towards his grandmother’s house. It was all quite pretty, he supposed. All sorts of green stuff sweeping past. Trees, grass, flowers — it wasn’t that he hated nature, exactly, but it did have its place. It was perfectly fine when he needed somewhere to hide while setting up a sniper’s nest. It wasn’t fine when it could conceal someone waiting to attack him or his. He glanced up at James, unusually quiet in the front passenger seat. Seemed like they were all lost in their own thoughts… At least it was a comfortable, reflective silence rather than being tense.

They’d had a productive afternoon discussing their plans for Iago Drax, then Q had chivvied them along to get ready to go meet his grandmother. Alec and James had teased Q a bit, but to be fair, he couldn’t blame Q for being anxious. It _had_ taken them quite a while to get ready… He smiled at the memory of just what had caused them to run late, shifting a bit to adjust himself as his jeans got a bit tighter than was comfortable. He had to admit, these days he was a happy man.

His interest sharpened when he realized that Q was slowing down to enter a gated community. Up in front, James was looking around, too, checking out the security. Good. He’d have to compare notes with James later. Helped to know what they might be able to expect in terms of help — or hindrance — from the locals. Of course, M wouldn’t be best pleased if they started a firefight in the streets, but it wouldn’t be their fault if they were attacked, now would it? He shifted again, but this time it was habit: a subtle stretch to check the Browning that was snugly strapped against his ribs in its shoulder holster. The front passenger seat creaked as James stretched in just the same way, checking his Walther. Alec nodded. Best to be prepared.

Q had noticed their guns as they left James’ flat. His only reaction had been to roll his eyes and mutter not to shoot anyone who didn’t deserve it. Alec sniffed at the memory. He and James were _professionals._ They only shot who they meant to shoot.

It wasn’t long before Q pulled into a semi-circular drive in front of a large house and parked. He turned in his seat, his serious hazel eyes pinning each of them with an intent stare. “We’re here. And please, on your best behavior? For me?” 

It was almost insulting, as though Q didn’t trust them. Which was ridiculous, because they were the epitome of trustworthiness. Said so on their hiring paperwork. But it was probably more of Q’s earlier nervousness, so Alec only nodded. James nodded too. Probably coming to the same conclusion as he had. It was apparently sufficient, because Q beamed at them. “Good. Thank you, both.”

“You can thank us tonight,” James said, his voice lowering suggestively. “Think of this afternoon as a taste of what’s to come.”

To Alec’s secret delight, Q blushed. Their Quartermaster really was adorable. They got out of the car, and Alec went to join James on the walkway. They stared up at the house while they waited for Q to come around. Alec swept his gaze over the building and land, noting all the places where someone could penetrate the perimeter. “Big place.”

James nodded, his focus on just the house. “Lots of windows.” Meaning it would be a nightmare to secure.

“Good sightlines, at least.” Alec indicated the nearby trees with his chin. All trimmed so that the lowest branches started a good 10 feet or more from the ground. 

“Hmm.”

Q’s voice came from behind them. “Are you two done giving my nan’s home a security assessment?” 

“What are you talking about?” Alec glanced at James. “Are we doing a security assessment?”

“Just admiring the architecture,” James said, with an innocent smile that fooled no one.

Q rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you are. Come on, let’s go in.”

* * *

James frowned a bit as Q opened his grandmother’s door without knocking and went in. They were expected, surely, but… the door was unlocked and Q hadn’t announced their arrival. Security cameras? But a covert glance around didn’t turn any up. He tucked that oddity away to think about later, and moved up to flank Q protectively. Alec automatically took up position opposite him. They were quite possibly overreacting, but this was unknown territory, and Q’s earlier anxiety had set off his protective instincts, despite his earlier teasing. Trusting that Alec would survey the room on the far side, James scanned the side closer to him. 

The front room of Q’s grandmother’s house was large and airy, with two-storey windows. A heavy couch and a pair of recliners sat close to the windows, and an elegant staircase curved its way along the left wall up to the first floor. Directly ahead, there was what looked to be a small elevator. From his angle, it looked big enough for two, possibly three. Would it go down to the basement? Or only up? How many floors? He resolved to ask Q when he and Alec were done with the initial security sweep. Having an unknown like that would nag at him like a missing tooth. 

Q took a step forward, away from their protection, looking around with a slight puzzled expression. 

James immediately went on high alert. What was Q looking for? Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Alec tense as well, preparing for anything.

 _There._ Motion. He drew his Walther and aimed, knowing Alec was doing the same with the Browning.

“Stop!” Q moved in front of them, spinning around, his hands outspread, hovering over the two pistols. “Put those away. They’re my cats.”

So they were. A light orange and cream tabby sat on the back of the couch, while a tiny black cat with a little white patch on its chest stalked forward, meowing loudly, as if it was scolding Q for abandoning it with his grandmother. James frowned. Its tail was coiled into an almost corkscrew shape. Should a cat’s tail be able to do that? As he holstered the Walther, Q bent down to pick up the cat, cuddling it close to his chest.

“Hello, Ace, who is a sweet kitty, hmmm?” Q cooed, rubbing the cat’s — Ace’s — head with his cheek as meowed at him, sounding for all the world like she was giving him a report of all the slights she’d received while he’d been away.

James traded grins with Alec at the sight of their Quartermaster talking to his cats in babytalk. Wait, _what_ had he called the other cat?

Q was bending over the other cat now, Ace still in his arms, purring like a mad thing. “Seven, there you are, such a good cat.” The tabby stretched up, rubbing its head against Q’s cheek.

 _Seven?_ Had… James wanted to shake his head to clear it. Had Q named the cat after him? This time he shot Alec a questioning glance, but Alec was… pouting?

“Why’d you name one of your cats after James, but not after me? Didn’t you like me? _Everyone_ likes me.”

“What?” Q stared at them. “Named after… No, I’ve had Seven for years. He’s named after the Seventh Doctor.”

“Who?” That made even less sense. Why would Q name his cat after some doctor?

But Alec was grinning in triumph. “Then that means you _did_ name the other cat for me.” He scooped Ace out of Q’s arms and she directed her earnest sounding meows to him as he cuddled her the same way Q had. “Nitro-9 and explosions. We’re gonna have fun, sweetheart.”

 _What?_ James stared at Alec, feeling increasingly out of his depth. Had both his lovers been drugged somehow, without his noticing? Neither of them was making any sense. 

“No, no, no,” Q said emphatically. “She does _not_ like real explosions, and since when do you know anything about Doctor Who?”

“Ignore the silly man, sweetheart,” Alec said to the cat, throwing James a subtle wink. “We’ll find you a nice laser to play with.”

Alarm filled Q’s face. “Oh my Gods, Alec, seriously, she’s a cat.” 

Alec got that sly expression he had when he was about ready to pounce. “Yes, like Ace was in that one episode.” 

“Oh.” Q stopped, his brows going up in surprise. “You _do_ know your Who.”

“Of course.” Alec smiled, smug, now that he was apparently vindicated. 

That was it. James had had enough. He was putting a stop to this. “I have no idea what either of you are talking about.” He sounded more than a little petulant to his own ears, but didn’t care.

Q and Alec smirked at each other, and chorused, “Marathon!” 

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

“Sheridan?” A cultured voice came from the back of the house. “Is that you and your friends in there making such a fuss? Come on, we’re in the kitchen, waiting.”

“Sorry, Nan,” Q said, catching Alec’s hand to pull him along. “Coming, James?”

James turned towards the woman’s voice and stopped, stunned, at the sight of a beautiful older woman in her seventies standing in the hallway. A woman he recognized. No. It couldn’t be her, could it?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q finally gets his grandmother, James, and Alec in the same room. He's got a few questions for all of them, especially when he realizes there's another visitor at the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Dart for giving this chapter a final read through!

“James?” Q frowned as he realized his lover was staring dumbfounded at Nan. That didn’t make sense. He glanced uncertainly at Alec, but that was no help. His other lover just smirked, which was not at all helpful. In the meantime, Nan was smiling at him… no, she was smiling at James, and that smile sent a shiver down his spine. It was a smile that he was accustomed to seeing on his Double O’s, not on a civilian. It was dangerous — and knew it. “Nan?”

Her smile changed, to the sweet one he was more used to seeing. “Don’t worry, dear. Come along, now. Kitchen, remember? We’re having tea.” She turned and went back down the hallway.

Q looked from Alec to James. “What’s going on?”

“Your grandmother is _Sophia Dickson?”_ James hissed at him, eyes wide.

He blinked. That was unexpected. “Erm, yes?” How did James know her name? He hadn’t introduced them yet.

“She was one of the first Double O’s,” Alec supplied helpfully.

“No.” Q shook his head. That was a ridiculous idea. “Oh, no. Not _my_ Nan.”

James just nodded wordlessly before managing, “Yeah, your nan.” He went back to staring wide-eyed at the hallway Q’s nan had disappeared through. “002.”

Q tugged Alec’s hand as he nodded to James. “Come on. I’ll prove it to you.” He led Alec towards the kitchen, with James right on their heels. He’d show them that his nan was the same elegant, occasional pain-in-the-arse woman she’d always been. Absolutely _not_ a Double O.

He stopped short as he entered the kitchen, Alec in tow. That James didn’t bump into them both was surely down to agent reflexes. “M?” Why the hell was the head of MI6 in his nan’s kitchen?

Alec stepped around and urged him further into the kitchen, allowing James to enter fully. Next thing Q knew, James had come up to stand protectively close, angled to cover his side. Then Alec faded back a step to lean against the counter, his alert pose screaming that he was on watch. 

James looked from Q’s nan to M, his eyes narrowing. “What are you doing here?” 

M took a sip from her teacup and set it down before she said, “Visiting an old friend.”

Friend? Q looked at his grandmother, coolly drinking tea next to one of the most dangerous women he knew. “Nan?”

She smiled brightly at him. “Yes, dear?” 

Q felt lost. Alec gave him an encouraging smile, and James was at his shoulder, warm and solid. “I don’t understand. They say you were a Double O.”

“It’s quite simple, dear. I was.”

_“How?”_

“I submitted a job application, dear.” She smirked at him. “Did you ever wonder how I met your grandfather?” 

Q scowled at her. “You said you met him at work.”

M snorted into her tea. “Is _that_ what you told him?”

Nan shrugged. “Why not? It’s almost true.”

“Hmmm.” M considered that and nodded. “Yes, I suppose you have a point, there.”

 _“Nan!”_ Q quivered in outrage. How had he not known? 

“Sheridan Spencer Sinclair,” Nan said sharply. “Don’t take that tone with me.”

James whispered advice in his ear. “Take it easy. I know you’re angry, but you’ll learn more that way.”

Q closed his eyes and took a breath. Right. Patience. Oh, the hell with that. _“Damn_ taking it easy. You’ve been lying to me, Nan.”

She waved a hand, dismissing his concern. “Oh, I wouldn’t put it quite that way. It’s not lying so much as not telling the whole truth.”

And wasn’t that almost a defining trait of a Double O? “You could have told me.” 

“No, I couldn’t. It was classified, need-to-know.” She shrugged elegantly. “Besides, you were a child.”

What. He stared at her. “You were an active Double O, on missions, when I was young? Was that why you dragged me all over the world with you on school holidays?” 

James and Alec both stiffened as they understood his unspoken realization — that his nan had taken him on missions with her as a child. Q could feel the anger coming off them in waves. The Double O Threat Level had just shot straight to the _Oh Shit_ zone. He found that he didn’t quite care.

Across the room, with only a table between them and certain danger, his nan and M sat drinking their tea without turning a hair at the rising aggression in the room. Nan smiled again. “Only courier runs. Nothing dangerous. Besides, you had fun, didn’t you?”

He could feel his resolve softening. That was the influence of the Double O’s, no doubt. Each and every one of them found the idea of danger exhilarating, and that had rubbed off on him. She was right, it had been fun. Still, he had to press. “Not the point, Nan.” 

She huffed a breath. “Just like your grandfather. He objected to you going with me, too.”

“Is that why you haven’t spoken to him in 15 years?” M asked, looking mildly curious. “I had wondered.”

“He’s just upset because I was always a better shot than he was.” Nan shrugged dismissively. “He’s such a spoilsport.”

“What about Q’s parent’s?” While Alec’s question seemed mild, Q could hear the snap of steel underneath. “What did they think of you endangering their child?”

The shift in his nan’s expression brought home to Q that yes, Nan had most definitely been a Double O, and was still very dangerous. Her fury more than matched that of his own two. She stood and leaned over the table, and spat, “I have _never_ allowed Sheridan to be in danger.”

Q could tell that M was ready to intervene. He didn’t care about her relationship — if any — with his nan, but he knew James and Alec wouldn’t respond well to further interference from M. He made a snap decision: however reckless his nan had been, it was true that he’d had never been hurt during any of the times he’d gone with her. He put up a calming hand and said, “It’s fine.”

James glanced at him sharply. “But Q—” 

He caught James’ ice blue eyes with his own, then Alec’s green. “It’s _fine.”_ He didn’t relax until they both nodded. Good. He’d deal with his nan later. Now… he wanted them to get along.

M had put a restraining hand on Nan’s arm. Nan was looking at her friend, and she nodded, and sat back down.

Q breathed a sigh of relief as the tension in the kitchen ratcheted down to something close to bearable. Now, he wanted to know something important. He asked James, “So how did you recognize my nan right away?” 

James’ eyes shifted away for just an instant. “It was on a mission.”

“You and my grandmother,” Q said flatly, a feeling of trepidation running through him. He knew what James got up to during missions. “What _kind_ of mission?”

“Oh, don’t worry. It wasn’t that kind of mission, dear. Just training,” Nan said, reassuring. She shot an approving smile at James. “He was a fast learner.”

James inclined his head toward her in thanks. “It was one of my first missions for MI6 as a field agent. Alec had been sent out with one of the other Double O’s—”

“003, that was,” Alec interrupted, sounding more like his normal, irrepressible self. “Bradley Morgan.”

“Yes,” James said, giving Alec a quelling stare. “I was assigned to Sophia. I learned a great deal of tradecraft from her on that mission.” 

“Now, tell me about yourselves,” Nan said, ignoring M as she snorted into her tea again. “I’m sure you’ve had… _interesting_ careers.”

Q stiffened as he realized the reason for her invitation. “You wanted me to bring them here just so you could threaten them.”

“Of course not.” His nan smiled that dangerous smile at his lovers. “I’m sure that James and Alec are perfectly aware of how important it is to treat my grandson properly.”

James drew himself up, almost to attention. Challenging. “One of us is going to hurt Q.” He shrugged. “He’ll hurt us. That’s what happens in relationships. Someone gets hurt.”

“But we’ll make up again. Always.” Alec took over, looking as lazy as a cat with arms crossed and his hip leaning against the counter. “That’s what happens in relationships, too.”

Nan relaxed suddenly and her smile became approving. “Excellent. You’ll do, gentlemen. Now, how about some tea?” 

Q couldn’t believe it. “That’s… that’s it?”

His nan looked at him, as if she didn’t understand. “Well, of course, dear.”

“No apology?”

Nan sighed, and raised an inquiring eyebrow at his lovers. “Is an apology needed?”

James exchanged a glance with Alec and shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Q mentally threw his hands in the air and gave in to the inevitable. “Fine.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled, sit down, and have some tea.”

* * *

Tea with his nan and M had been oddly nice, Q reflected later. James and Alec ended up talking shop with Nan, and he learned so much about her that he’d never known. The best part was that she approved of his lovers, and they approved of her. Well. After they’d gotten their outrage on his behalf out of the way. Then everything had been as civilized as it could be, considering there were three Double O's in the room.

Of course, the next hurdle would be introducing James and Alec to his parents...

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Dart for encouragement and brainstorming!
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr - you can find me at leavesdancing.tumblr.com


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